kosmonavtovich - nu tev alksni niks, blje.

jasak stradat. jaasamet sports, krievos shodien arii no 11 viens pats buush.

p.s. shodien alus krogaa Sams. drišķis. slaape jau no vakardienas.

moozik: Nightwish/Century Child

petro ar maiju kopaa vairs nebuus. vakar pechkins to pateica visnotalj jau noteikti, tapec shonakt sapnjoju nepatiikamas bildes attieciibaa uz mani un sandu. brrr. kapec? as usual - complicated - bet viena varda sakot laikam vareetu iztvest "tapec-ka-skukis-nespeej-izaugt-un-doma-ka-otrs-cilveks-ir-pashsaprotams-un-neko-nepukstees". protams, nepretendeeju uz viedoklja objektivitaati. petjka teica "negribu buut tas, kas pasaka" - sho fraazi gan nesapratu. ja jau izlemts tik chotka, tad navko vilkt. maybe izklausiisies peec baigaa ego vai kaa vinja tur, bet shoreiz "labaak pasuuti pac, nevis gaidi, kad tevi pasuutiis". vot.

moozik: Pantera/Reinventing Hell/Walk

Close up on a sign saying `Harley Street'. Stirring music. Mix through to interior of a smart, plush, ever so expensive Harley Street consultieg room. The music smells and fades. Knocking at door, a short pause, then T. F. Gumby enters, backwards.

T. F. Gumby (Michael.) - Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR! (he goes up to the antique desk and bangs the bell violently; he smashes the intercom and generally breaks the desk up) Doctor! Doctor! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! Doctor! Doctor! Where is the Doctor?

A pause. Then another door opens and another Gumby appears.

Gumby Specialist - (John) Hello!

T. F. Gumby - Are you the brain specialist?

Specialist - Hello!

T. F. Gumby - Are you the brain specialist?

Specialist - No, no, I am not the brain specialist. No, no, I am not...Yes. Yes I am.

T. F. Gumby - My brain hurts!

Specialist - Well let's take a look at it, Mr Gumby. Gumby specialist starts to pull up Gumby's sweater.

T. F. Gumby - No, no, no, my brain in my head. (specialist thumps him on the head)

Specialist - It will have to come out.

T. F. Gumby - Out? Of my head?

Specialist - Yes! All the bits of it. Nurse! Nurse! (a nurse enters) Nurse, take Mr Gumby to a brain surgeon.

Mrs Jalin: George.
Mr Jalin: Yes, Gladys.
Mrs Jalin: There's a man st the door with a moustache.
Mr Jalin: Tell him I've already got one. (Mrs Jalin hits him hard with a newspaper) All right, all right. What's he want then?
Mrs Jalin: He says do we want a documentary on molluscs.
Mr Jalin: Molluscs!
Mrs Jalin: Yes.
Mr Jalin: What's he mean, molluscs?
Mrs Jalin: MOLLUSCS!! GASTROPODS! LAMELLIBRANCHS! CEPHALOPODS!
Mr Jalin: Oh molluses, I thought you said bacon....